


To Winning

by phantisma



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-10
Updated: 2006-12-10
Packaged: 2017-11-13 10:34:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/502582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantisma/pseuds/phantisma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean happen across Spike in a bar…and stuff happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Winning

The headache was worse. The nightmare had been brutal, the demon close and the hunt vicious. Sam sat at the bar in some run down, out of the way tavern, nursing a beer and his head. Dean was somewhere behind him, hustling at the pool table or the dart board, and Sam was pretty sure that he was still pissed about the close call and the hole in his leather jacket.

They had separated as they came in, Dean to the tables, Sam to the bar. By the end of the night the tussle would be forgotten and Dean would sling his arm around Sam’s shoulders. Until then, Sam figured he was safer over here, drinking his headache away.

The place was pretty empty. A few locals, the bartender. It was late, well past midnight and the snow outside was a good indication that this was as lively as the joint was likely to get…which was fine by Sam, and his head.

“Mind if I join you?” The voice had a ridiculously British accent, and not that snotty, elegant one he’d heard on the kids at Stanford.

Sam turned, and raised an eyebrow in surprise. Tall, lanky and platinum blond, the man had sharp angular features, and shadowed eyes that made him look predatory…but when he smiled, his blue eyes sparkled and Sam inclined his head.

“No offense, mate, but you look like hell.” The blond signaled the bartender and asked for whiskey, then ordered one for Sam too.

Sam would normally decline. He glanced over his shoulder at Dean who was watching him and looking fairly predatory himself. Sam lifted the shot glass so that he knew Dean could see it, and smiled his thanks to the blonde before downing the shot. He shivered as it burned its way into him and he chased it with a healthy swallow of beer.

“Name’s Spike.” He held out his hand and Sam took it with a smile.

“Sam.” Again, Sam caught his brother’s eye. Dean was starting to get steamed. Sam smiled. “What brings you in here tonight Spike?”

“Bloody cold out there, right? Worse on a bike.”

Sam nodded, then looked into those blue eyes. “Next one’s on me.” He waved at the bartender with his empty shot glass. He could feel Dean staring at him.

After the second shot, the pain in his head was starting to recede. He was beginning to think Spike was flirting…or at least that Dean thought he was. Suddenly, Dean was behind them. “Hey, you play?”

Spike turned slowly. “I’m having a drink with my friend Sam.”

Dean’s hand settled on Sam’s shoulder and Sam looked up. The look in Dean’s eyes was enough to let him know he should stay quiet. “ **My** friend, Sam, doesn’t need any more to drink.” Dean said, his eyes flicking from Sam’s to Spike’s. “So, why don’t you come play a game or two with me?”

Spike watched how Sam’s eyes moved to stare at the bar, how Dean’s possessive hand closed around the back of his neck and nodded. “Right. A game.” He slid off the barstool and Dean moved back toward the table. “Want me to beat him for you, pet?” Spike asked in Sam’s ear.

Sam smirked. “If you think you can.”

“What’s in it for me if I do?”

Sam looked up at him and blushed. “Well…I don’t know…”

“We can negotiate then?”

Spike’s smile was wicked and Sam nodded. “Maybe.”

“Hey, we playing or what?” Dean called and Spike swaggered across the bar.

This should prove interesting. Sam flagged down another beer and turned to watch. Dean was still glowering as he racked the balls and Spike was still smirking. Sam held no illusions what it was Spike wanted if he beat Dean…and Sam was just drunk enough to entertain the idea.

Dean would kill him, of course. Nobody beat Dean at pool unless he wanted them too. Just like no one touched Sam unless Dean wanted them to. Except he did shake Spike’s hand. Which wasn’t strictly forbidden, but was a flirtation with the rules. That was the reason behind Dean’s simmering anger, that and the earlier hunt.

It was obvious from the start that Spike was at least a match for Dean, and Sam smiled while he sipped his beer, watching Dean sweat a little.

 

 

“So, the pretty at the bar…he yours?” Spike asked as Dean sank two balls in one shot.

Dean looked at him with a touch of anger, then glanced up at Sam. “You could say that.”

“Ever…share?”

Dean stood up, leaning on his cue and looking at the lanky blonde. He’d seen Sam, seen the gleam in his eyes at the flirtation, at the interest from someone who wasn’t his brother. But…they were so much more and Sam knew the rules. The fact that he’d gone so far as to give this stranger his name and shake his hand had Dean seething. It didn’t help that he’d been fairly close to seething when they came in. Fucking demon possessed bikers.

“What did you have in mind?” Dean asked as Spike lined up his shot. Maybe it was time to take the next step in this thing between him and his little brother.

Spike sank his ball and smirked. “Say a little wager. If I beat you, I get the pretty for the night.”

“And if I win?”

Spike’s smile broadened. “Then you can have me.”

Dean stared at him, then looked at Sam. “I’ll be right back.”

Sam was starting to look drunk when Dean crossed to the bar and ordered another beer. “You like what you see, Sammy?”

Sam looked at him for a minute like he wasn’t sure what Dean meant, then nodded. “He’s…pretty.”

“Funny, he said the same about you.” Dean sipped on his beer, then leaned in to Sam’s ear, his hand sliding to Sam’s thigh. “Wants to play me for you…you like that Baby? Want me to bet that sweet ass?” Sam’s breathing hitched and his eyes were glassy and huge.

“Dean?”

He leaned in even closer. “He wants to fuck you, Sammy…wants to stick his dick inside you and feel the heat…” He ran his finger up from Sam’s thigh, over his abs and chest and slid it into his mouth. “Maybe I’d like to see that.”

Sam groaned and Dean pulled his finger out of his mouth and replaced it with his tongue. “Mine,” he whispered as he pulled away and Sam nodded distantly. “Mine.”

Dean walked away with his beer and returned to the table. “My terms. We play. Five games. If you win, I let you fuck Sam…but I get to watch. If I win, you take Sam’s place, and I fuck you.”

Spike’s eyes roamed over Sam’s long body, then snapped back to Dean. “You’re on.”

 

 

Spike wasn’t accustomed to having to work this hard to get what he wanted. This Dean guy was good. Three games down and Spike was down by one. Of course, it didn’t help that he was completely distracted by his dick. It had jumped to life when he saw the pretty pet at the bar…and when he’d realized that Sam was owned by the other…who was in no way less pretty…well, Spike knew he had to have him…them…one way or another.

Sam was watching, he’d moved closer to sit at a table, watching first Dean, then Spike as they handled their cues and the balls on the table. Sexual innuendo hung in the air, and Spike got the impression that if Sam had permission he’d be all over them both…and there would be very little pool playing.

As it was, Sam sat in his chair, his legs spread wide, those huge hands cradling his beer between his legs, his eyes watching as Dean sank yet another shot. Spike had noticed that Dean’s drinking had slowed, and his eyes fell on Sam every few seconds, protective, assessing.

Neither of them had spoken to Sam since it started, but it was easy to see that whatever Dean had said to him had aroused him…and now…”Your shot.” Dean said casually, stepping back from the table.

Spike looked it over, a slow grin spreading over his face. He took his time lining up the shot, smooth, easy…and the white cue ball glided over the green felt, cracked against his #9 ball, sending it hurtling away and into the pocket, then slipping sideways to drop his #3 into the side pocket and come to a rest an inch from the 8 ball. Spike grinned.

“Eight ball, corner pocket.” He tapped it in and tossed off the last of his beer in triumph.

Dean growled, then shook his head. “You’re good.”

“Should be…I’ve been playing a long time.” Spike said. “Rack ‘em.”

Sam stood suddenly and swayed a little as he sidled up to Dean. “Gonna be last call. Want something?”

“Want you.” Dean grabbed Sam and turned him so he was pressed against the table with Dean’s cue rubbing against his crotch. “Gonna be so good when I get you back to the room.”

Sam’s eyes were bright green compared to the stormy hazel in Dean’s. “Beer?” he asked after swallowing hard.

Dean pulled money out of his pocket. “Whiskey. Last game.”

Sam took the money and glanced at Spike before going back to the bar. Spike watched him go, then looked back at Dean to realize Dean was still watching too. “Pretty pet.” Spike murmured.

“Mine.” Dean said softly, then glanced up. “He’s pretty turned on. I’ve never…Never more than a blow job from anyone else…”

“I’m pretty fired up myself.” Spike said, both of them watching now as Sam made his way back to them, carefully carrying three shots of whiskey. “I don’t know which idea gets me hotter…me fucking him…or you fucking me.”

Spike took his drink from Sam, purposely sliding his fingers along Sam’s as he did. Sam looked nervously to Dean who only took his shot and held it up. “To winning.”

Spike downed the shot and turned back to the table. Dean’s cue came down on the table and Spike looked up. Dean was wrapping a hand around Sam’s waist, looking at Spike, but whispering in Sam’s ear. Spike waited.

Sam nodded, then excused himself and Spike looked at Dean expectantly. “I think we should re-negotiate our terms.” Dean said, turning to put both hands on the table. “We’re pretty evenly matched. Bar’s closing…we probably wouldn’t get to finish our game. Thinking maybe we call it a tie.”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “A tie?”

Dean’s smile was devilish. “We have a room at the motel across the street. I’ve sent Sam back there to get himself ready. We have…rules, you see.”

Spike nodded, slowly setting his cue on the table beside Dean’s. “Are you implying I get my reward and you get yours?”

Dean nodded guardedly and moved a little closer. “Think you can handle that?”

“Bloody hell.” Spike murmured. “I can handle anything you can dish out, pet.”

“I’m not the one who wears the collar… _Spike_.” Dean whispered in his ear. “Come on.”

 

Sam was drunk. Tipsy. Getting ready wasn’t as easy as it generally was. He was terrified he’d forget something and end up getting punished…in front of Spike. Dean said he’d give him a little time. Time to prepare…because Dean…his…Dean was going to give him to a virtual stranger…was going to watch while he got fucked by…

Sam shook his head and finished stripping off his socks. He was naked now. And hard. He’d been half hard most of the night. Now…knowing what was coming. Knowing what was going to happen. Sam stripped the comforter and blanket from the bed shoving them into the closet space. Next he made room on the nightstand and pulled out the leather bag. His hands shook a little as the collar came out, but he put it on without hesitation.

It was thick, black leather, and inch and a half wide. It was mostly decorative…mostly…but the O ring in the front let Dean lead him around like a puppy when he wanted. He swallowed, feeling the play of his muscles against the confining leather. It was…strangely comforting. When he wore the collar, he could let go of everything…and let Dean be completely in control.

On the nightstand, he laid out the lube, several toys, handcuffs and the paddle. He didn’t think tonight would go there…but he wanted to be prepared, to please Dean.

That done, he set aside the bag and settled himself to wait, kneeling on the floor between the beds, head down.

 

Dean led the suddenly quiet Spike across the snowy parking lot and stopped them just before the door to their room. “Rules. He doesn’t speak unless given permission. He doesn’t come without permission. Only I give that permission. I control everything that happens in there. If I say stop, everything stops. Got me?”

Spike smiled. “Not my first party, pet. I get you.”

“He’s the pet. I’m Sir. Get that.”

Spike stiffened a little but nodded. “Got it.”

Dean toyed with his room key. “He’ll be waiting for us. He’s already pretty hard, so you should suck him off first…give him a chance to last through the rest without worrying about not being able to hold it.”

“Straight to it, eh?”

Dean grinned broadly then. “Nothing straight about it. Let’s go.”

Sam was waiting just as he should be when they came in, and Dean wasted no time in closing the door and crossing to him and settling a hand on his head. “Good boy, Sam. Good boy.” His eyes lifted to Spike’s. “Get undressed. I’ll get the boy ready.”

He turned away to ignore Spike, his hand stroking gently over Sam’s face. “Up on the bed, baby…on your back.”

Sam complied instantly and let Dean arrange him to his liking. Dean’s finger stroked over the leather of the collar, then under…“Spike here is gonna suck you…make you come. I want you to come for me as fast as you can, okay, baby?”

Sam’s pupils were blown with lust and excitement as he nodded. “Then the fun can really begin.”

Dean stepped back and watched the blond crawl over the end of the bed toward Sam. He was graceful and lithe and Sam’s eyes tracked his movements. Sam shivered as his hands connected with Sam’s thighs and slid down toward his hips. “Gonna eat you up, pet.”

Spike took his time, making himself comfortable there between Sam’s legs before he dipped his head and ran the tip of his tongue over Sam’s thigh, up to the concave joint, over the hip bone. Sam’s eyes rolled closed and Dean could tell he had to fight to keep his hips on the bed.

“You taste good.” Spike purred as moved to repeat the action on the other side.

Sam hissed and Spike grinned. Dean started pulling his own clothing off, moving slowly closer to the bed. “You like it, baby?” Dean asked and Sam’s eyes fluttered open, finding his.

He nodded, then arched his back as Spike swallowed him. “Tell me, Sam.”

Dean reached over to touch Sam’s arm, stroking lightly over the skin as Sam shivered. “He’s…cold…he’s…oh…fuck, Dean…”

Dean glanced down as Spike dragged his lips up Sam’s cock and smirked. “Good at that is he?”

“I…I’m gonna…” Sam’s eyes looked to his, confirming that he had permission before he arched up into Spike’s mouth and came.

Spike came up and off Sam’s cock with a pop and a self-satisfied grin. “Nummy.”

Dean smirked, then grabbed Spike by the back of the neck, dragging him closer before licking the blonde man’s lips. “You missed some.” Dean said. He hesitated only a second before he kissed Spike properly, crushing lips to lips and invading his mouth with his tongue. Claiming the dominant role now that Sammy was settled in.

When Dean let him go, he stood and motioned for Spike to do the same. “You look like you’re ready to go.”

“Have been since I saw your pretty boy.” Spike said, his eyes glittering. “So…what’s it gonna be?”

Dean looked down at his brother, already looking like he’d been fucked, then down at the toys laid out. “I think I want to get to know you a little while Sammy here gets ready for us.”

Spike raised an eyebrow and Dean smirked. “Lube up Sammy…and warm up with the small one. Spike here is gonna get me started.”

 

Spike watched as the younger one slicked up a finger and pressed it into himself. Dean finished pulling off his jeans and looked from Spike to his half-hard cock. Spike licked his lips and moved to where he waited. Normally, particularly with mortals, Spike played the Daddy role…but tonight…he wasn’t sure why but he liked the idea of being between these two boys…of letting the older one control how this would play out.

Dean’s hand grabbed his hair when he got close enough and guided him to his knees. Without being asked, Spike opened his mouth and took him in, swirling his tongue over and around and feeling the cock swell and respond. Dean rocked his hips, pushing deeper into Spike’s mouth. Sam’s moaning drew his eyes, watching Sam watch them while he fucked himself on the small dildo that wasn’t quite as wide as two fingers. Hot little fuck, he was.

His own cock was hard and heavy now. He could only imagine how hot these young bodies were going to make his own…more then Angel ever could…Spike hummed as Dean thrust a little deeper, then Dean was pulling him off. “Fuck…wanna see if you’re that good with your cock.” Dean said darkly.

“Better.” Spike said softly.

“Sam. Stop.”

Sam moaned, but took the fake cock from his ass, dropping it to the bed. “Hands above your head, Sammy…no touching tonight…”

“Please…Dean…” Dean stopped his words with kisses, pulling Sam’s hands up over his head.

“Want the cuffs?”

Sam shook his head and grabbed the headboard. “I’ll be good. I’ll be okay.”

Dean kissed him and there was a tenderness there Spike hadn’t caught before. “You’re my good boy.” Dean whispered so softly that had Spike been human he wouldn’t have heard it. “I’m gonna let him fuck you Sammy…He’s gonna come in your ass.” Sam’s legs spread even further apart, an invitation if Spike ever saw one.

Dean was watching him and Spike remembered at the last minute that this was his show, so he paused, dick hard and pointed at Sam’s ass. Dean nodded, watching breathlessly as Spike moved, entering Sam in one, long, slow stroke that made Sam moan and readjust his grip on the headboard.

Spike adjusted his position to sink a little deeper, watching Sam’s eyes flutter as Dean’s hand played with his nipples. He’d been right, the boy was hot inside…hotter even than Xander…who was like a little inferno…Spike wanted to bury himself inside that heat. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his movement…on his thrusting, on the feeling of that hot, tight passage and the whimpers he heard Sam swallow with every stroke. He almost wasn’t aware of the shift until Dean’s hand was on his back, then his bare chest was pressing against him and he was caught between them.

 

Sam opened his eyes when the bed shifted. He could see his brother behind Spike now, his hands stroking the pale white skin, riding chest to back as Spike moved inside him. It was odd…the feeling of Spike’s skin, so cool against his. Dean’s hands moved lower and Sam watched Spike tense, then relax, felt him still as Dean obviously worked a finger up inside him.

It had been one of his darkest confessions to his brother…wrung out of him during a weekend of denied orgasm and deep fucking…that he wanted to watch Dean fuck another man…to have Dean fuck Sam _through_ another man…and now…here…Sam arched up under Spike, feeling his cock coming back around as Dean’s eyes met his over Spike’s shoulder.

“Is it good?” Dean asked and Sam nodded, biting his lip. “Gonna be better.” His hands were on Spike, pushing him deep into Sam and holding him there as he eased himself into Spike.

Spike’s mouth dropped open and his hands tightened on Sam’s hips. “Fuck. So good.”

Sam watched as Dean adjusted his position to give him leverage to begin moving, drawing Spike back out of Sam, before pushing him back in. Sam wanted to reach up and pull them both closer, and bit down on his lip as he squeezed his hands on the wood of the headboard.

Spike’s fingers were leaving bruises….slightly off from where Dean’s fingers would…and generally did…new and different. Dean fucked up into Spike, his eyes riveted on Sam’s as they moved as though Spike’s cock was just an extension of Dean’s. The weight of the two made the friction of Spike’s abs against his cock almost painful…Sam focused on Dean, rocking his hips in time to each slow thrust.

Spike was muttering curses and moans, his head thrown back onto Dean’s shoulder. Dean’s mouth slid along his shoulder and up his neck, finding the cord stretched taught and biting down, just as if it had been Sam. Spike yelled and came, pressing in deep and not moving while Dean doubled his speed. “You feel it Sammy? You feel me?” The bed shook with his thrusts and Sam held onto the headboard even tighter.

“Dean! Please…May I?” He wasn’t even sure Dean would hear him as Spike collapsed forward, adding pressure on Sam’s cock that was already aching and begging for release. “Dean…”

“Yeah…baby…fuck…gonna come so hard.” Dean pressed Spike down harder and came. Sam knew that look, and it was hot…Spike’s hand somehow got between them and squeezed him and Sam was coming all over again.

They collapsed and rolled apart and Dean padded across the room to fish out the half bottle of Jack from his duffle. He smirked as he saluted Spike with it. “To winning.”

Spike laughed and nodded, taking the bottle when Dean was done. “To winning…and getting what we want.”


End file.
